


The Man in the Blue Shirt

by Dreamin



Series: Out of the Blue [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 17:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15645669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: The man of Molly's dreams is right in front of her and she does what anyone would do.





	The Man in the Blue Shirt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).



Molly had no idea where she was, all she knew was that there were people running around some sort of room, someone was yelling something about shields being down, and then the room? shook hard, knocking her off her feet.

“Captain!” a man yelled. “Two of them just beamed into Sickbay!”

 _Captain? Beamed? Sickbay? Where the hell am I?_ A moment later, she was suddenly in another room. There was a man in a blue shirt telling everyone else to get back while two men with oddly-shaped foreheads pointed some sort of guns at him.

Time seemed to slow down for Molly. All she could focus on was the man in the blue shirt. He was tall, but then most men were to her, with thick brown hair she really wanted to feel between her fingers, the most intense hazel-green eyes she’d ever seen, and a handsome face with a jaw that could only be described as “stubborn.”

One of the men with a gun shouted something she didn’t understand and the other one fired at the man in the blue shirt.

“No!” Molly shouted, only to find herself in her bed. _It was a dream?! It felt so real! Really, really weird, but real!_ She glanced at the clock on the nightstand – 1:03 AM. _I have to be up in two hours but how can I go back to sleep after that?_

She ended up dozing off again, her last conscious thought about him.

* * *

The text came just as she was leaving the Tube station that morning.

**Get in.**

Sure enough, she looked up to see a black sedan with tinted windows pull up to the curb in front of her. Rolling her eyes, she got into the back of the car. As expected, Mycroft was there, putting his phone away.

“I thought you didn’t text,” she said, annoyed. “And I do have to work today, you know.”

“You mean you did – I informed your boss that I need your assistance on a government matter.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “I don’t even get a chance to refuse?”

“Dr. Watson is out of the country on a case with my brother. You are the only other doctor I can trust with this.”

“MI-6 has its own doctors, doesn’t it?”

“I need someone who has seen the … unusual side of things.”

“Hello again, Mr. Cryptic,” she muttered. “Nice to see you too.”

Mycroft almost smiled at that.

* * *

After a retinal scan, a thumbprint scan, and a voice recognition, she was finally allowed into a bright, windowless room. The only contents were a low, small bed built into one wall, a sink, and a toilet.

 _This is a cell,_ she thought, immediately uncomfortable.

The room’s only occupant was a man with his back to her. He wore black boots, black pants, and a long-sleeved blue shirt … and Molly could feel the blood leaving her face. The man turned around and she knew this was the man from her dream.

Then the world went black.

* * *

Molly woke up for the third time that morning, staring up at a ceiling she didn’t recognize. It took her a moment to remember what happened then she suddenly sat up.

“Hey!” protested an unfamiliar voice. “Lay back down!”

Molly looked up to see the man from her dream scowling at her then he pushed her back onto the bed with hands that were strong but surprisingly gentle. “I’m fine,” she insisted.

“The hell you are,” he said firmly. “Fine people don’t faint.”

“They do when they’ve had a shock.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m the one who’s two hundred and forty-four years in the past, what do you have to be shocked about?”

She stared at him as she sat up, this time without any argument from him. “Wh … what do you mean, two hundred and forty-four years in the past?”

He smiled a bit. “Just like it sounds, darlin’ – I’m from the future. August 10th, 2262 if you want to be exact. My ship was attacked, a couple of Klingon goons invaded Sickbay, **my** Sickbay, and I got hit with some sort of … I don’t even know what it was. I’m a doctor, dammit, not a weapons specialist. The next thing I know, I’m in the middle of Trafalgar Square. Not five minutes later, a couple of guys in suits shove me into the back of a car. At least it wasn’t the trunk.” He held out his hand. “Dr. Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the _U.S.S. Enterprise_.”

“Dr. Molly Hooper, pathologist at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, London,” she said, shaking his hand. “So, you’re obviously American, by your accent. You’re in the Navy?”

“Starfleet. Basically, it’s a Space Navy.” He glanced at the corner of the room and Molly turned to see Mycroft standing there, looking extremely bored. Leonard turned back to her, smirking. “I’d say more but I think we’re on a tight schedule. So, why do you think you fainted? If you’re pregnant, you should see your own doctor.”

“I’m definitely not pregnant,” she said, unable to stop the heat rising in her cheeks. “I fainted because of you.”

“Me?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes, I dreamed about you last night.”

Leonard relaxed again, smiling. “Now I’m all ears.”

“I was on … well, I guess it was a ship, your ship. I saw you protect people that I guess were your crewmates, then two men shot you and I woke up.”

He stared at her. “Describe the two men.”

“Big, ridged foreheads. One of them said something I didn’t understand then…” She trailed off helplessly.

Leonard stared at Mycroft. “She’s describing exactly what happened before I ended up here. Two Klingons beamed in to Sickbay, the shields must’ve been down-”

“They were,” Molly insisted. “I was somewhere else before I was in Sick Bay, someone told the Captain that the shields were down.”

He stared at her. “You were on the Bridge?”

“I guess so.”

Leonard turned back to Mycroft. “Then one of the goons told the other, ‘ _ghaHvaD HoH,_ ’ and the bastard shot me.”

“That it, that’s what he said!” She paused. “What did he say?”

He turned back to her. “‘Kill him.’” Leonard shrugged. “We’ve been in a few battles with the Klingons recently. I asked Uhura, our Communications Officer, to teach me some rudimentary Klingon in case I have to treat any of them.”

“But … if they wanted to kill you, why are you here?”

“Exactly what I was wondering,” Mycroft said. “Dr. Hooper, I know you’re not a psychologist, but do you believe this man is telling the truth?”

“On his own, it’s a little hard to believe, but then I work with the world’s only consulting detective, the former army doctor who blogs for him, a retired assassin who’s now a nurse,” she smiled a bit, “and the British Government himself, not to mention I dated the world’s only consulting criminal, so anything is, in theory, possible. What cinches it for me is my dream. As hard as it is to believe, I saw what happened to him on his ship. Sherlock will probably have my head for this, but I am willing to vouch for Leonard.”

Mycroft assessed her for a moment. “Very well. Thank you, Dr. Hooper. I’ll have one of my men take you back.”

“Just a minute,” Molly said, standing up. “What about Leonard?”

“He’ll remain here while we debrief him.”

“Here? Mycroft, he’s not a prisoner … is he?”

“He’s here under surveillance until we find out exactly what happened.”

Leonard looked like he was about to protest but Molly heard herself answer, “Let him come home with me.”

Both men stared at her.

“That is simply not possible,” Mycroft started to say.

“You don’t even know me,” Leonard said at the same time.

She turned to Mycroft first. “You’ve had men watching me since I met Sherlock. Just … add a couple more or something. I’ll keep Leonard out of sight and he’ll be a lot more comfortable in my flat than this place.”

“And what will you tell my brother when he goes looking for a bolt hole?”

“I’ll just tell him it’s occupied for the time being.”

Mycroft wisely said nothing. Leonard, however, wasn’t as ready to give in.

“We just met, you know nothing about me, I don’t have any money, I don’t even have a change of clothes. For all you know, I could be a-”

“But you’re not,” she said, cutting him off. “I can just … tell. You’re a good man. As for clothes,” she looked at Mycroft, “I’m sure MI-6 can provide everything you need for life in the 21st Century. Isn’t that right, Mycroft?”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Give me your measurements and I’ll have my assistant get you something to wear while I get you an identity. I leave him in your capable hands, Dr. Hooper.”

Leonard rattled off his measurements then Mycroft left the room. He turned to Molly, smiling a bit. “You sure you know what you’re getting into, darlin’?”

She smiled back. “You can’t be any worse of a houseguest than Sherlock.” At his confused look, she added, “Mycroft’s younger brother, the consulting detective.”

“Right. Well, let’s hope I’m not imposing on you for long.”

Her smile widened. “Well, long or short, I’m sure it’ll be interesting.”


End file.
